


i wanna ride on your bike, 'cause you're the boy that i like

by r1ker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Riding, luke 'when i became a jedi i became a power bottom' skywalker strikes again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:05:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5715400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r1ker/pseuds/r1ker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>han finds that with a jedi, things change, and always for the better</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna ride on your bike, 'cause you're the boy that i like

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter friends always give me the best ideas
> 
> title from come on let me ride
> 
> (because luke does ride)

Han lets himself be pushed down into a soft chair, handled a little too roughly than what he’s used to. He’s never seen Luke like this, light eyes gone as dark as the robes and trousers he wears now in his new position as rising Jedi. That doesn’t mean to say he doesn’t like it – in fact, several parts of him take high interest, among them his aching cock as Luke takes his place in Han’s lap, straddling him efficiently.

 

In times past, when they’ve done this, Luke hasn’t stopped talking even long enough to take in a breath. Now he’s dead silent, the only sounds in the room his quiet breathing and Han’s gasps for air that form when Luke grips his cock. The tip catches on the seam of Luke’s pants, Han not even realizing in the process that Luke’s carefully shoved his pants down past his knees to gather around his ankles.

 

Luke keeps one hand on Han’s face while prepping himself with the fingers of the other, utilizing lube from the table near the entryway to his quarters, trembling as he works himself open. Touching Han’s jawline, his stubbled cheek and chin seem to keep him grounded when the sensitivity brought on by prepping himself tries to be too much for what he’s used to.

 

Han tries to laugh and lighten the darkening mood that threatens to fall over Luke’s features when he slows down, his fingers all but stopping to contemplate something. “What, you’re not…” He trails off when Luke’s eyes meet his again, telling of something ulterior that will allow him to take direction like never before.

 

Luke kisses him then, mostly in an effort to get him to shut up, but also because he likes it, always have and always will no matter how hard he likes the sex part to be. Likes the way their mouths fit together, the rasp of Han’s breath into his mouth and the slide of his tongue against Luke’s. The way the kiss edges rough, teeth being thrown into the mix when Luke makes the decision to deepen it.

 

When he decides he’s done, his fingers have done enough for this night, he pulls them out and lets them drag along the fabric of the sofa to take away the dampness. He grips Han’s cock again, trying to angle it just right and ends up taking it in to the hilt in the process. His eyes roll back in his head not of his own volition and Han sees it, makes a noise in the back of his throat in response. Luke can’t move right away, wants to get acclimated to the feel and the weight before allowing his hips to move up and down. Once he does, knees grinding against the cushion the two of them are sitting on, stars bloom behind his closed eyes.

 

He tries to fight the emotional part of it in the way tears well up as his body realizes it’s not as efficiently readied for the length inside it, and does pretty well at it. Han’s started to make his own noises in response to the action now, groaning at both Luke moving in his lap and at the way one of Luke’s hands has moved over his mouth to stifle anything that could get too loud.

 

Luke gains control again, does what he was meant to do from the start and picks up the pace. The way he moves in Han’s lap, the rhythm and pace of it, is maddeningly slow but just as deep as the two like to have it. His lower back aches, not used to going so long without a break, but he deals with it in letting his hips roll forward every once in a while to alleviate the pressure. Faster and faster does it get, Han’s hands scrabbling at his lower back for some note of composure until giving up altogether and gripping Luke’s shoulder blades.

 

“Luke, Luke, please,” Han can’t help but plead when Luke’s pace takes up a speed that’s unrelenting in its actions. His hips drive down onto Han’s lap faster, faster as time ticks by slowly. They both start to catch against the chair when Luke gets too rough and has to put the reins on going as fast as he would like. He slows down, tries to make it more intimate. Lets his hands slide in the back of Han’s hair, stroking his scalp and letting his fingernails dig in just a little, enough to make each pass of his fingers almost electric.

 

“I would let you have it your way,” Luke mentions, his hand gripping the shelf just above the two of them for more leverage. “But I can’t, I can’t right now.” Even he has to admit he’s getting weak with this, dazed with how much he wants to come, but he can’t let it end now or it’d go against everything he had planned for the two of them this evening. He had seen it perfectly, riding Han quick and hard for as long as the night would let them. That’s not what’s happening now, he’s making it more emotional than he had foreseen, but it’s nice – always has been and always will be, between the two of them.

 

“I know,” Han answers like he does, he honestly has no fucking clue what Luke’s thinking about for just how determined he’s acting right now rather than letting Han do all the work, work he doesn’t mind. His hand cups Luke’s cheek, fingertips resting on the corner of his mouth. “I get it. But you’re killing me here, kid.” He wheezes out a laugh when he realizes he’s two seconds from coming if Luke continues to sit on his cock the way he is. “I’m not some well-composed Jedi like you are, I am but a mere – oh, Christ.” Luke sits up suddenly and with just the tip of Han’s cock just breaching his hole, sits back down quickly almost as soon as he’s in a full upright position.

 

“That’s good, that’s so good,” Han staggers out when Luke resumes his brutal tempo, now reaching down to jerk himself off to the brisk and steady pattern of it. A few strokes and he’s coming into his own hand with a stilted sigh, soon spilling out of his loose grip and onto Han’s chest, the upper half of his belly. Not much he can do about coming this early into it, the way he was able to make Han begin to buckle under his ministrations was much more than his own hand could do. The feeling of it, feeling it in the Force although Han’s not sensitive to it himself, was astounding; it was almost as if someone cast a spark between their two bodies, enough to ignite the powder keg Luke’s allowed to gain traction in himself for so long.

 

Han is long gone not five seconds after Luke’s already come, emptying himself into Luke with a drawn-out grunt. Through it all Luke keeps his mouth on Han’s, feather light kiss distracting him from the power of his climax. He breathes through his nose to keep the passion in their kiss, lets his fingers brush over Han’s jaw and his ear, passing over nerves made raw.

 

Luke leans up on one knee to withdraw Han’s cock from himself. With that he feels Han’s come trickle down his leg and he grimaces, but lets it fade when he settles back down onto the tops of his thighs, still struggling a little to breathe properly. Han, he’s found, is very affectionate after this, requiring just a little more in the way of light touches and kisses much like he is beforehand. Luke obliges him with no problem, kissing his neck and letting the longer parts of Han’s hair slip between his fingers.

 

With this Han makes several small noises in the back of his throat, most of them blooming into exhausted yawns as the strain of what he’s been doing for the last couple of minutes start to catch up with him. He makes a move to get out of the chair and move to the bed just across the room several feet from where they are, and Luke stands back a little to let him have his space to move. Han struggles a little to walk, legs stiff and sore and rubbery from not having Luke sitting on top of them, but he manages the trip to the bed and falls down onto it with a grateful groan.

 

Luke changes, lets his soiled robes fall to the floor in a puddle around him and climbs onto the bed to take his rightful place near Han, his chin finding the man’s chest. Han wraps one arm around him, the other snaking up Luke’s chest to let his hand touch his jaw. A yawn and Han’s asleep within a few minutes, nose on Luke’s forehead. Luke stays behind in consciousness and dwells on the reality of the man using him as a throw pillow but settles in for the long haul of the night, enjoying the warmth and closeness this night has again provided for him.


End file.
